


B. B. B

by The_Candy_Crazed_Child942



Category: Captive Prince - C. S. Pacat
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Cults, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Jord has a crush on Laurie, Laurent is not a damsel in distress, M/M, Not Beta Read, Rating May Change, Shout out to poppy, worshipping
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-16
Updated: 2018-01-20
Packaged: 2019-03-05 11:53:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,771
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13387263
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Candy_Crazed_Child942/pseuds/The_Candy_Crazed_Child942
Summary: Laurent struggles with his lifestyle. He's really important. He says so. He tells him what he has to wear. What he has to eat. Who he has to be.He keeps him captive in this fancy jail.Or, sooner or later, Laurent will have to make him."I'm softer than a daisy, if you cut me I'll bleed pink. I'm bleach blonde baby, that's how God made me. Not everyone was born this perfect, well it's just my burden to bear. That's how God made me."In a city like any of the others, with average people and average places, there's only one particular house. It opens it's doors every two days, in the night, to certain persons. It's roof it's black and it's walls are pink. Inside everything is marble white.Inside, there is party, candy and diamonds. It's like everyone is so happy.But... There must be something wrong with it. It sends chills up his spine and his stomach spin. Damen is going to find out what really goes on in the Midnight House.





	1. My Favorite Thing Is

**Author's Note:**

> This first chapter is a little short because it's more like an intro. But believe me the second one is like the double haha. 
> 
> My first language isn't English, so any mistakes or suggestions please do tell me. 
> 
> Enjoy...

Today is Friday. Many people goes out on Fridays. They like to party on Friday nights. It's something normal.  
Laurent attends parties on Friday's nights too. Laurent and his uncle hosts them.

Tonight there is a party. As every Friday.

Laurent wakes up with all these things in mind. Today is Friday.  
He sits in bed looking at his door. He puts his slippers on.

On Fridays and Tuesdays, he and the rest are allowed to have breakfast first, and then bathe. He doesn't really care about what goes first. But he is hungry, so he goes downstairs, to the dining room.

The dining room is big. It's white, entirely, as the rest of the house. The long table of seventeen seats is flawlessly clean, it looks like a white diamond. There are pink roses in the center, the only colorful spot in the room.  
As usual, Laurent arrives first. Breakfast is the only meal in the day he spends with the rest of the household. Lunch, dinner and afternoon tea are solitaire. Or with his uncle.

He takes his respective seat at the bottom of the table, across the head. Uncle always takes the head. Silently, he waits for the rest to come.

In a moment, the rest come one by one. Jord, Vannes, Ancel, Nicaise, Orlant and Talik. Rochert, Radel, Huet, Guion, Berenger and Aimeric. The other five name's were unknown to him. Laurent hardly ever spoke to any of them. He just knew Jord because he was something like a bodyguard to him. He sometimes spoke to Vannes as she brushed his hair or scrubbed his toes red in the bathtub. Laurent cared deeply about Nicaise.  
Nicaise and him never spoke. 

The last one to arrive is his Uncle. " _Good morning, master Raphael_ " they say with a deep bow. Now, everyone takes their seats. They are all in their places.

Today's breakfast is French toast, scrambled eggs, sausages and grape juice. If anyone wants some coffee, Ari the cook will serve them.

Laurent eats it all, along with his coffee. Uncle gives him a disappointed look as he sees him put too many sugar cubs in it. _You have to control your sweet tooth, or you will get sick, dear nephew._

Laurent takes a sip, looking at his Uncle.

  
It's bath time. Laurent likes bath time. He has a special bubblebath soap that smells like candy and chocolate. It makes the water pink-ish, and full of big bubbles.  
He dips one toe in, then the other. He sinks down, slowly and closes his eyes, breathing in the scent. Then, he grabs a white sponge and starts to scrub his skin. He works it around his neck, his knees and behind them too. He makes sure his elbows are soft and white. He scrubs everywhere, if not a little harshly.  
It's very important that he is very clean. His inner thighs have to be soft and good, and his chest white as snow. Every detail counts.  
As he rinses his upper body, he grips a little too hard his own wrist. He winces, but ignores the yellow bruise around it. No one noticed at breakfast, or at least is what he thinks. Or what he hopes.

When there are special balls or there's a holiday party, Vannes comes to do his nails and treat his hair. She brushes it and shaves it between his legs, but not all of it, because that's no good for you, she says. She is gentle and does good massages. She tells good jokes and decent stories too. Laurent doesn't mind her company.

Vannes slips him candy too, when she comes around or outside when Uncle isn't looking.

Laurent doesn't like dressing up time very much. He never chooses his clothes. His uncle does, and sometimes Vannes. When she was sick and Uncle was away, Ancel did twice. Too many jewelry for his liking, he remembers from that time. Don't get confused, Laurent likes all of his clothes, he buys them himself, or at least most of them, but he never gets to match the outfits. So when he buys clothes he never does it with a finished look in mind.

Today, his clothes are sprawled in the bed, which is already made, and they are already ironed. As always.

Light blue sweater with little bunnies printed on, with a turtleneck cut. White stockings to match the silvery shorts, simple but shiny.  
He puts the blue sneakers on, focusing on tying it's laces. They are rainbow colored.

At last, he sits in front of his mirror to comb his hair. It has grown a little longer, dripping over his shoulders, but he knows he'll have to cut it soon. This season this hair style is not on the go. Plus, he likes it chin length more, makes it easier to wash and brush.

He lets it loose, but he makes a little braid on the side, putting a silver star pin on it. At least, most of time, he has his hair as he wants. But this is not tonight's attire.

  
The rest of the day passes as usual. He reads, he plays with his cats, he visits the rabbits in the backyard, he talks to Jord about the weather and tonight's meeting.  
He haves lunch alone, chewing lazily the grilled vegetables. He eats the raspberry ice cream happily. Jord stays at his side every time. Except at tea time. Because tea time is Uncle's time too.

Nothing really exciting happens with Uncle. They talk about the scones, and about names for the new rabbit babies. They avoid tonight's party. Laurent knows Uncle doesn't like to talk about it before the show. Uncle talks about how lovely Laurent's shoes are instead.

"They remind me of you as a child. They are interesting"

"Interesting"

"Yes. It's interesting, about how the children like rainbows so much"

Laurent doesn't replies. He bites into the scone, looking into the older man's eyes. A thunder is heard outside. A shame, that tonight no one will be able to go outside. Many guests like it.

"You know... When you want to perform mental manipulation on somebody, it's a common phrase to tell them to go "over the rainbow"  
Uncle says.

Laurent looks up from his cup of Earl Gray.  
"Oh. I didn't know. That is interesting indeed"

His uncle smiles, lifting his cup for a last sip. "It is" he agrees.

Laurent keeps staring at him. He seems a bit younger that his nearly fifty years, but has wrinkles around his eyes, like he laughs a lot.  
Such a good uncle, taking care of his nephew. Having tea with him and having friendly talks, caressing his hair like he used to, when he was younger... It seems so fine.

It's a lie.

  
For today's party, food has to be prepared and floors have to be polished. Nicaise runs around carrying big bouquets of roses, and Guion surveys that everything is going well. Rochert makes sure the chimney is fine and Radel gets the boys ready for tonight.

Laurent watches it all from the stairs. He still has time before it's time to get him ready too. Without Guion or Uncle noticing, he helps Nicaise to arrange some tables. They don't speak as always. At the end, Laurent gives him some coins and a mint candy, winking at him. Nicaise doesn't even smiles, just bows down and then runs to the backyard.

Finally, it's his turn to get ready.  
Vannes braids his hair tightly to his skull. She spreads glittery body cream in his skin and face, then, she applies transparent gloss to his lips and gold dust to his eyelids and cheekbones. She makes a subtle cat eye with blue eye liner, and applies some mascara. He doesn't need it normally, but the gold makeup dulls his eyelashes.  
Laurent doesn't like makeup. It makes his face twitch and makes him look... Unrealistic.

Uncle always chooses his ceremony clothes. They're showy and bright. Millions of sequins dance before his eyes, tons of lace spilling though his fingers. "It's beautiful" Vannes says. _It's over dramatic_. Laurent thinks.

A bow grips his waist tightly, and his sleeves nearly reach the floor. He looks like a kind of peacock, but somehow he looks as pure as a swan as well. Beaming innocence, at the same time being powerful. It's just what they all like.

The coat is soft and the pants are too, but the vest underneath is gauzy, leaving his skin at relative display. It's a relief that it isn't too much. Then, Vannes brings him tall boots that reach his knees, looking like a version of Cinderella's shoes. They looks pretty expensive, to the intricate designs in the tips to the shiny laces.  
"A gift, from one of our guests" Vannes tells him. That makes him want to bury them in the backyard, away from his feet, but he slips them on.

"I guess we're ready to go" She adds then. Laurent looks into the full body mirror.

He feels ready. But hollow. As always.  
One of his favorite things, among every other things that he gets to have or see every day, is looking at himself at the full body mirror before a performance. It reminds him where he stays and what he has to do, to stop, some of this days.

But, tonight, something's off. He feels it in the way the rain taps against his window, or how the car engines sounds, as the guests park in front of the porch.

Tonight, he will experience something else, that doesn't happen always.

 


	2. Suspicion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Damen goes on an adventure.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok I thought last chapter was way too plain so I posted this one to... explain better the story. Idk.  
> Enjoy!

The house is big seeing it from the outside, almost like a manor. A small one, like a summer house. What really draws your attention is the color. A soft pink, paired with the black rooftop. It reminds of the outfits frilly girls pick out.

There is no sound coming out. It's always deadly silent, like it's abandoned. But you know there are people in.

The porch and front area, including the little front garden it's always neat, even though you never see someone cleaning it. There is a backyard with a garden, but no one has ever been near there. They are scared.  
There are many myths, stories, rumours. Parents tell their children to stay away, and classmates tell spooky stories about it in camp trips.  
People call it "The Midnight House" because every two days, at night, you can hear sounds, like a party, laughs music and chattering. The next day, it's like nothing had happened at all.

But, if you pay enough attention, you notice things. Like the car that comes some Saturdays or Mondays to deliver heavy boxes inside, or the young girl that comes out sometimes to take out the trash. Every now and then, a black car, similar to a limousine, drives out for some hours, in direction to the city. The windows are polarized, so you never see who's inside.  
One day, a rabbit slipped through the backyard fence, and a boy ran off after it to bring it back inside.

Damen notices all of these as he watches the house carefully, every day. He lives across the street, practically.

His house used to belong to his grandmother, but after she died  decided to take care of it. His college was close after all, he saved the bus money. He enjoys living there; it's a nice place that brings him good memories.  
It has a huge kitchen where he can cook all that he wants, and his room has natural sunlight most of the day- a perfect place to study. And his friends can easily stay with him, he has other three spare rooms in perfect conditions. And though it's a big place, he doesn't feel lonely. And it keeps him busy anyway, having to do the house chores and stuff, he hates having nothing to do.

But, strange things have been happening since he moved there. Or more like, he had seen strange things. Or sensed them?

It all began with the car. The black limo that goes outside sometimes. The couple that lives next to him told him that it takes children that get lost at night, that's why the kids are not allowed to be outside late. The old man that goes grocery shopping with him says that it's all bullshit, it's just government business.  
The thing is, one day he had a really "close encounter" with it.

He was taking out the trash and the last move out boxes, when he heard the engine. He had only been there for two weeks and he already recognised his neighbours' cars sounds. The old Chevrolet of miss Pegni, the BMW of said next door couple, and the red mini Cooper of the old man near the park, among many others. He had quite the ear memory, his parents used to say.  
But, this engine sound was totally new to him. He looked up from the boxes and watched as the foreign car approached. It was like a black monster, completely austere and silent. When it passed it front of him, Damen tried to look inside, but everything seemed pitch black. Just when it was about to drive off out of his sight, he got the sensation like someone was watching him back, his stare glued to the car's windows.

That haunted him for the rest of the day, for some reason.

Every time that Damen walks home he feels uneasy as he passes by the Midnight House. It's something about the house that feel _off_ but he doesn't know what it is.

He tells his best friend about it when he visits him at his new house.

"You shouldn't pay attention to that. There are stories about haunted houses everywhere" Nik says as he chews through his sandwich.

They've decided to have lunch in Damen's place, plus, Nikandros hadn't been to the new house yet. They sit on the front porch, looking at the Midnight House that's just diagonally across the street. It's quiet and lifeless like any other day.

"Who the fuck decided to paint it pink anyway? Was it the five years old daughter?"

Damen shrugs. "I just know that it hosts parties or reunions every two days, except on New Year's Eve".

They stare at the house for a long time.

"I mean, you shouldn't get involved. I don't want you to stick around with weird stuff, besides," Nikandros popped the last of his sandwich in his mouth, looking Damen in the eye, "you've got studies to do."

When it was the late afternoon Nik had to go, or he'll arrive late to his mother's. She gets mad when he doesn't accompanies her to church, and being late wouldn't be wise.

"Promise me you won't get on shit ok?" Said Nik, obviously referring to the house thing.

"I promise. I won't pursue it. Not my business" Damen replied. But Nikandros just narrowed his eyes at him, like he was reading his mind.

He sighed. "Just... Be safe"

Every two days at night, Damen can barely conceal sleep. The reunions in Midnight House aren't really loud or rowdy, but his concern about what happens in them keeps him awake, wondering...  
He sits in bed and looks through the window. The house is lit up, numerous cars parked in front of the porch, even some of them close to the backyard. How many people are attending? What are the reunions for? Are they celebrating something? Why every two days?

Today he only has afternoon classes, so he better make the most of the morning.

What Damen does is just straightforward impulse, so when he knocks at the Midnight House door, he isn't thinking very clearly of what he's doing.  
A man opens surprisingly quickly. He is dressed all in black as the strange limousine. They're casual clothes but somehow he looks just as poised. Damen needs to think of an excuse, and quickly. He can't just say he came for sugar.

"Ehm, good morning. My name is Damen, and I live across the street. A friend of mine told me about your reunions at night... And that they we're truly amazing... I was wondering if you could tell me how to assist to them, do I need an invitation? Or is this a kind of club? Or... "

He wasn't very good at lying. Nik could've done it better. Jokaste could've been inside by this point. He said the words way too fast. But the guy just raises a brow to him.

"Let me see what can we do, Mr. Damen."

And he closed the door in his face. By the time Damen came down from the shock, he realizes that maybe he should have said a fake name... Or to not say where he lived... Was it too late to run away and lock himself in his room?  
Damen pays attention to the porch. It's really clean, and the wooded floor looks polished. They are flowers in a basket by the door steps, pretty and good smelling. Damen wonders if they are real. It was almost like a doll house.  
Inside, there is only silence. It's like no one had ever opened at all.

Birds are chirping somewhere around, the sun becoming hotter against the front porch. Damen is beginning to feel it was hours ago since he knocked the door. He thinks that, maybe it would be better to come back, rethink it all.

Just as he was taking a step back to go, the door opens abruptly again.

"Come in" the man from moments earlier says.

The house is white. White. White everywhere.  
From where Damen is staying now, there is only a long hallway in front of him. If he looked left the hallway stopped in a staircase and another passage, probably to the living room or the kitchen, but he couldn't seen much. The walls are brilliantly white, like marble, and the floor is covered in a white carpet that seems expensive. The man began to lead the way to the right side. They aren't any pictures or paintings hanging off the walls. It's like a dream, or a movie, whiteness everywhere he can look at.  
Finally, they reach the end of the corridor. There is a young woman moping the floor, her clothes all black too. When they pass her, she doesn't look up.

They reach a corner with a window, and two doors in each side of it. The table is white, as the walls and the doors are, but the roses in the bouquet are a pale pink, like the house facade. You can see the backyard from it, an expansive grass area, and further away there is something that looks like cages. The man opens the right door and motions him to go inside.

It's like a study room, and, fortunately, it's not plain white. A man sits at a desk made of heavy smelly wood, reclined back in his seat, his hands folded before him in the table. He has a well kept beard that looks like has the same shade of brown of the desk. His blue eyes sparkle with expectation. "Please, Mr. Damen, take a seat"

Damen knows nothing more than to obey. He sits in the only chair in front of the desk, and takes a brief look to the room. There is a painting with horses, and a photo that looks like a family portrait. He can point out this man from the picture easily. He has an arm around another man's shoulders. They're about the same height, and have similar smiles. Maybe it's his brother.  
There's a book shelf full at the top. He can't recognize any of the titles, but the books look old. Worn out from use.  
The room feels familiar and warm, but at the same time looks imposing.

"We heard that you are interested in our little community, of what Orlant told me," Damen, who had his gaze fixated in a decorative bulldog statue until now,  looks up, "you say that a friend told you"

The man studies him for a moment with sharp eyes, like he is testing him. "What is your friend's name?"

_Shit_ _._

_"_ Well, we're not exactly friends. It was a co-worker of my friend who told us about it, and at that moment I didn't live here. It was just now that I heard of the reunions at night that I remembered..." Damen sits up straighter. "I don't remember their name"

A tense second passes, but the older man relaxed his expression a little. Damen takes out a breath. _I'll_ _need_ _Jokaste_ _to_ _teach_ _me_ _some_ _lessons_ _._ _Or_ _at_ _least_ _Lazar..._

"What brings your attention here, specifically? Is it just the night parties? Or what do you expect to find here?"

Well, he hadn't thought of that. He decides to act a little more confident then, to try to disorient him.  
"That depends. What do you exactly do in here?"

The middle aged man seems surprised by the question, but his frown turns into a pleasant smile. He leans forward.  
"In here, we worship things like joy, health and pleasure, but what we appreciate overall is beauty. The term in general, like the beauty in living or in nature..." He looks through the window with a solemn expression, like he is remembering something fond, "we rescue poor human beings that don't think they are worth of being alive. We show them how divine it is, breathing and living into this world"

"Beauty is everywhere in this place. It's important to take advantage of it, to be aware of how important it's to have it in our lives. Every human is beautiful, and we intend to make it last on our daily lives. Or to be correct, every two nights, we remind them." He continued.

Damen was truly perplexed. He could have never imagined this explanation to this place. This man wasn't so secretive about it, what he said makes sense. Kinda. Or at least, Damen can see the appeal on the "pure whiteness" of the house or it's doll house features. Sickening perfect.  
But, there has to be something else, he still feels it. Damen insists.

"But... Do you have something like a god? A god of joy and beauty? Do you even have a gospel?"

The man laughs, a throaty sound, a smile with all teeth. It reminds Damen of the Big Bad Wolf.

"Something like that... I wouldn't know how to explain. Why don't you come to our next reunion? This Friday, at night."

Damen doesn't know what to say. He didn't expected it to be this fast, or easy... But the offer is priceless. He won't have another opportunity like this.  
"Of course I'll come. Thank you very much, sir."

The man goes up from his seat, and walks slowly towards the door. "I'm very pleased to hear that. I will look forward to see you here."

Damen gets up as well, and shakes hands with the man, mumbling thanks and good byes. The man from earlier- Orlant- comes again to bring him outside. Before Damen could leave the man stopped him for second, "And please, call me Raphael"

Orlant takes him by the same way they had entered from, turning the corner, by the long corridor. When they reached the door Orlant turns to him with a serious expression, "Friday, eight P.M, formal clothes. Don't be late, and don't tell anything to your "friends", okay?"

Damen was going to answer, but then he saw movement with the corner of his eye, in the right direction, to the stairs. A flash of yellow. But when he fully turned his head, it was gone.

Friday night. People usually go out on Friday nights. Damen is going out tonight, this Friday night.

He puts on his nicest clothes (that Jokaste bought him, of course) and gels his hair. He takes a deep breath. He thinks he is ready.

It only takes opening the front door, going to across the street, diagonal to the left, to the bright pink house there.

There are many cars already parked there. He can hear some music from the door. He knocks.  
A different man from before opens it, this time wearing a more formal attire in white. He has a white rose pinned to the breast pocket. Without a word, he lets Damen in and leads him to the left side of the hallway. Damen can see the stairs closely now, and reminds what he saw there last time. Or at least what he thought he saw.  
They reach to another door, and behind it there is a huge hall, full of people.

The room is white, as the rest of the house, but the floral arrangements are pink and black. In the far wall there is something like a pallet with a heart shaped craving in the wall facing the audience, for some sort of performance Damen supposed. But Damen doesn't catch a lot of the decorative aspects of the place, he feels surprise as he really _looks_ in.

Several guests are middle aged or even older, as the own Raphael was. Several of them have youths or young boys perched in their laps, feeding them with what looks like candy, caressing them like they were pets. Damen almost gasps aloud when he sees one of the young men giving a blowjob to other man. Like. In. Front. Of. Everyone.  
He notices that all the couples are of the same sex too. Ladies on top of girls and boys in men's laps. Different from the men that open the door or fetch drinks, these young men and women are dressed in a more provocative way, though it doesn't seem really vulgar. Like those lingerie items, but with way more fabric. _A_ _shame_ _that_ _what_ _they're_ _doing_ _is_ _not_ _subtle_ _at_ _all_ he thinks.

There are some paintings on the walls, all in soft bright colors, of cats, rabbits, horses or landscapes. There is a long table with food too. Damen decides to head that way, since he is a bit hungry, and there's no one having sex near there after all.  
He is eyeing a very good looking tray of cheese cake when someone puts a hand on his shoulder. Damen is on alert, but it just looks like another guest.  
"You're new here, don't you?"

"Uhm, yes. My name is Damen" and they shake hands. The other man presents himself as Guion. They talk for a while, and Guion tells him about the other guests, the food, and how well behaved are all the house boys.

"Such a pity that is raining, you would love the garden at night... " they keep the talking, until suddenly the lights go low. Everyone takes a seat closer to the pallet, with excitement written in all their faces.

"Oh! It's time for the main event! Would you like me to sit next to you? It's your first time after all"

Eerie music begins to fill the room, as the lights go lower. Damen looks at the scenario, where someone is walking in.  
At first it looks like another young girl, but when Damen's eyes adjust to the new light and the distance he sees it's a young man. Or a mix between an exotic bird and a human, he can't tell with all the golden paint in the boy's face. But underneath all the makeup and the fancy costume he can see that he is very appealing. Delicate boned but softly toned it's way the semi transparent shirt lets Damen perceive. In the middle of the dark white room, plain and kind of lifeless, he's full of bright colors and shiny ornaments, like a fiery beacon. It looks surreal.

Some of the guests are clapping, others just smile joyfully, it's like they are witnessing the show of their lives. One of the women is even crying. The young man's face remains expressionless, he is just staring at them.  
"Isn't he beautiful, divine? Like an angel?" Damen hears Guion ask him. But he doesn't answer, he's too transfixed by the anticipation of what the man will do next. He is doing nothing at all, just standing there, watching the guests. It seems that that's enough for them, because they are clapping and laughing, delighted. What kind of place this is?

Suddenly, the man lifts a hand, and everyone goes silent.

All eyes on him, he starts speaking. "I'm happy that you came... I'm happy to be a human being. Human beings are wonderful. Human beings are a miracle of life, as everything in the earth is. You are a miracle... " Damen looks around but no one is speaking. Some of them close their eyes like they're in church. Damen is beginning to feel this is a church. A very twisted one.

"Humans are important because they create things. Think about something you have created. Now, you feel better. Humans come from nature, but there are many theories about how we came in to this world. What do you think? Do you believe in god? In any god?" No one answers, but many more people close their eyes. His voice is sweet and clear, and it reaches every corner of the room despite not having a microphone. It's so soft, that Damen feels he's being lulled to sleep.

"I'm happy to be human. Humans are important because they rule the world.  
I am happy that you all came. I'm happy to be here too. May you sleep well tonight and have a beautiful awakening tomorrow. I'm happy that you came... Thank you"  
Damen half expected everyone to erupt into cheers and clapping, but instead, the crowd was silent. Not a single thing moved, and Damen feels strangely relaxed, and that scares him a little.  
The lights go out.

Damen nearly jumps from his seat, all his senses on edge... But nothing happens at all. The light comes back again, and the strange young man is gone. Everyone gets up from their sits and continue the party as if nothing. They eat and dance, and the pet-like youths return.

He gets up too, and everything feels way too much for him. Guion, who was at his side still, excused himself and went to another room. Damen feels hungry, but he can make food at his house anyway, he just wants to get out of here. He doesn't really know if he wants to come back, but... He needs to process everything. It all feels blurry as he walks towards the door. People are laughing and moving around, the air is thin. The lights are even brighter than before or it's just his imagination?  
Damen practically shooes away a redhead laced up in silky clothes that tries to press against him, inviting him into something else.  
The smell of cologne and wine mixes in his nostrils and makes him gag.  
He's never felt this way before.  
_Would_ _I_ _even_ _make_ _it_ _to_ _the_ _door_ _?_

But then, the smells and sounds stop. A moment of clarity in the madness.

The world stops, as Damen looks at the food table.

The "strange young man" hadn't mysteriously disappeared, he was just there, eating honeyed fruits in the food table. He's there, all blond hair and fancy dressing.  
Damen blinked, surprised.

He wants, no, _needs_ to talk to him. He approaches the table and picks up a chocolate macaroon, pretending to concentrate in the food, until "casually" stumbles upon the boy. He looks up at Damen with a straight face. And then Damen hears him but, _really_ hears him, his real voice, "you almost made me drop my food, you stupid fuck"

It's hilarious, the fact that Damen doesn't know what to say, and that he wouldn't expect those words from someone who looks like that. He is shook.  
The other just stares at him, like saying _why_ _are_ _you_ _still_ _standing_ _here_ _I_ _told_ _you_ _to_ _fuck_ _off_

"Well... That doesn't sound like you moments ago in the slightest"

It seems like he didn't expect that answer either, and having realized he broke character, he tries to fix it again with his softer voice. "Oh, I'm sorry. It's just that no one ever talks to me after the main event. They consider me too high above them to be worthy of their presence I guess," he takes another bite of his glossy cupcake, "you must be new then. You are certainly the younger guest in here... "

Damen smiles and leans against the table. He wonders how his face would look without the makeup. It must be really beautiful then.

"Don't worry, you don't have to fake it anymore with me. I won't tell anyone about your real self" his smile grows wider as he notices a little of pink beneath the golden powder when the man looks away. "And yes, it's my first time around here... Do you enjoy doing this?"

The other looks up with a cautious glare.  
"Are you a cop?"

This boy must be full of surprises if this is the second time he leaves Damen speechless. And it worries him a bit too, the question. But he decides to ignore it. For now.

"No that I know of. I'm just a little curious. You were good up in there."

The man looks at him with a sort of suspicion, and then it looks like chooses carefully his words.  
"Well, I'm like a deity here. Or a messiah, call it however you like. The most divine thing on earth," he finishes the cupcake with a last big bite, and keeps watching Damen. "I don't talk with no one else, so it really surprised me your attempt at a coincidental first meeting"  
He laughs a little, looking at Damen's face, then steps a little closer. "You're terrible at pretending, don't think I didn't notice. How did you get here, then?"

They stay like that for a while, looking at each other's faces. The young man studying him, and Damen, well, doing other kind of appreciation.

The other finally speaks. "Are you going to eat that?" He says, pointing at Damen's macaroon. He didn't even realized he was still holding it.  
After he eats Damen's treat, he goes for one of the butter fingers placed in a silver tray.

"Sweet tooth?" He asks.

"I like cheeses, too" the blond replies, as he bites into the candy. Damen was going to say a "I like your boots, too" but then he saw the man's blue eyes go cold and wide, as he looked at something over Damen's shoulder, but when Damen turned too he saw nothing especial. The other looks hurried up anyway, finishing his second butter finger quickly and musing out his goodbyes.  
But before he could flee away Damen grabs his wrist. And pulls back fast when the boy shots him a glare, almost terrified by the contact. _No_ _touching_ _then_ _,_ Damen thinks. "Sorry about that, but, could you please tell me your name at least?"

For a moment Damen thinks that he'd just run away or tell him a straight forward "no", he looks troubled by the question. Damen can picture him doing a entire list inside his head, about the cons and pros of telling him his name. His _real_ name.

"My name is Laurent. Good night" and just as that, he is walking, almost running away. Laurent is running away.

 

"Don't even think about it! Believe me, you won't gain anything with him. You'll die first." Damen looks around. The source of the voice, a little boy with huge blue eyes and brown curls looks up at him with narrowed eyes. "You shouldn't had come here, you giant beast. You don't belong here"

But, too bad for the kid, Damen definitely is coming back. And maybe sooner than he would think of.  
  
  


 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't forget to tell me if there is a mistake or a suggestion. I like constructive criticism. And comments. :D


	3. What Do Your Dreams Feel Like

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Laurent recalls last night's events, and gets many surprises. And it's not even his birthday yet...

Sometimes, Laurent dreams. Sometimes the dreams are scary, making Laurent remember moments that he would like to keep away forever, and squirm in the sheets, seeking a helping hand that will never come.  
But, happily, this time was not a scary one. It was just very strange, about boxes, and names and white boots. When Laurent woke up, he couldn't remember it at all.

He sets his gaze on his blue slippers for a long time, with an empty mind. Then, he recalls.

A laugh, a dimple, and a chocolate macaroon. Then, the complete image appears, like it's in some else's head. But it's all Laurent's memory.

A man, last night. They met after his performance, and Laurent ate his macaroons. Laurent told him his name. _What was I thinking?_  
This was bad. This was probably very bad. But... Perhaps it wouldn't have consequences. There were many Laurents in the world, and there wasn't a lot of information about him out there. He was a secret himself.

But, why did he told him his name? Why? Laurent never spoke with the guests. And it wasn't like they hadn't tried, it's just that Laurent prefers it that way. He feels disgusted by all of them.

That man, last night, didn't look, or acted like a common guest. He wasn't old, and he was obscenely big for his tuxedo suit (maybe that's why Laurent freaked out at first glance...), and he _talked_ to him.  
They had a conversation, and though Laurent was pretty sure he was checking him out, he never made a disgusting remark or tried to flirt. And when he saw Laurent was clearly uncomfortable by his hand on his wrist, he removed it immediately, and apologized. It was a normal encounter.  
And that wasn't anything normal, in Laurent's life.

He was about to open the bathroom's door, when he remembers why he ran off after such a pleasant meeting too. Laurent freezes in place, holding his breath.

His Uncle was watching them.

  
Laurent recalls the way he was staring at them, from a shaded corner of the hall, his eyes narrowed like a crocodile's. In the perfumed water of his bathtub, Laurent prays to no one at all for nothing at all as well.

Laurent isn't _afraid_ of his uncle... He is just prudent about him. Maybe that's why he doesn't speak with Nicaise. He prefers to make sure everyone gets their peace, and don't get anyone in trouble. It's not cowardly, it's being fair.  
That man of the party, he may get in trouble.

As he washes his arms, he ignores the bruise. He doesn't even want to think about it.

  
Blue denim jumpsuit and pastel green sweater. Light brown shoes with pink laces, white socks underneath. Laurent ties his hair back on a ponytail, and changes his silver earrings for blue ones. He knows it's a bad habit sleeping and bathing with them, but he can't help it. Sometimes he losts earrings like that.

  
For the first time in what it feels like centuries, Laurent is worried about what he will face downstairs. He hesitates, looking downstairs.  
His Uncle would be there, too, having breakfast, watching him from the other side of the table.  
As he walks down the steps his hand comes unconsciously to his bruised wrist, still healing. But he takes his foot down to the first step, and then the other, and the other...

He crosses the dining room's door frame, watching for any signs of his Uncle in there. But he is first, as always.

Having seated down, Laurent puts his face in his hands, and breathes deeply, looking down at his shoes. _Everything is going to be fine. I am sure he won't try anything when everyone else is present. It's all right._

Later, they all are seated, in their places. Uncle seems normal, like nothing else had happened last night. He doesn't even scolds Laurent for having more than two muffins, or says anything to him after breakfast.

Laurent is not sure about what he is trying to do. He has to be trying something, no? Uncle is not someone to trust, especially if you have done something that displeases him.

 

When he gets out of the kitchen, Jord is dutifully waiting him outside.  
"Good morning, Laurent. Did you sleep well last night?" He asks him as if they hadn't seen eachother at breakfast.

"Thank you, I did. Last night's party left me worn out, there were a lot of butter fingers to eat." Jord laughs at that.

"So, shall we go to the library, as usual?"

Laurent looks at his feet as they walk.  
"No. I would like to go out. I want to buy some things for Kotik"

Jord comes to a halt. "I'm sorry, Laurent, but your Uncle has gone out this morning. You know we can't go out if he's not here."

Laurent looks down again with a frown. _He went out? Where?_  
He hides his worry from Jord, he doesn't need to get bothered by it.

Jord thinks Laurent is disappointed, so he tries to make him feel better, he is always like that, "If you want we can still go with Kotik, and play with him", but Laurent likes him that way.

They walk downstairs, and Laurent stares at the back of Jord's head.  
When Jord came to be part of the household, Laurent was fifteen. They found him searching for old clothes pieces in the trash, and Radel got really upset, he was going to hit him. Little teenager Laurent was watching the scene from afar, clutching tight his sweater in his fists.

He ran to where Jord was, head down kneeling in the floor, screaming at Radel to let him go; Laurent put his body over Jord's, shielding him from the others, giving the most terrifying glare his fifteen years old self could hope to get.  
With his arms around Jord's neck, his hair falling on his back, they must have made a funny image. Jord, five years older than Laurent, was definitely bigger and broader, so it was like a bunny embracing a hunt dog. But Jord just kept himself quiet, his eyes on the floor, shaking from head to toe. Laurent held him tighter, his blue irises fixed in Radel's crisped face.  
_"If it's a matter of a punishment, we can make him work for us. But don't hurt him. I won't let you. He hasn't done anything wrong, more than disgusting your poor self. Let him work."_

Jord ended up being so much help, they kept him permanently, besides, Uncle said he had "seen to much anyway", it would be better to have him there. Jord requested personally for his job as Laurent's personal chaperone one day, and because he was the best at what he did, Uncle couldn't deny him the work. Now he always stood at Laurent's side, forever.

 

They found Kotik lounging lazily on a window pane, eyes closed but not sleeping. When Laurent caressed briefly his head, the cat opened his eyes. Kotik meows at Laurent's face, like asking him something. Laurent nods and takes him into his arms, carrying him towards the kitchen.  
It had taked a lot of discussion, to let Laurent take care of his own pet. A ridiculous fight over such a mundane thing, like feeding or bathing him.

Laurent owned Kotik, as much as Kotik was free as well. Throughout the years, Laurent learnt that you couldn't own anyone, not even the animals. That's what a healthy relationship is, no?

Today Laurent is in the mood of remembering, he thinks as he watches his cat eat. He thinks about how he found Kotik too.  
Kotik was in the trash too, a tiny kitty looking for food. Laurent was thirteen then. (He doesn't let himself think about that year. Thirteen.)  
Adopting Kotik was easy then, but he didn't know how to name him. Snowy? Tabby? Niall? Sethux? Maybe Louis. Or Ruen was better?  
He doesn't know how it worked out, but Kotik was left without a name for a year and a half. Laurent wanted him to have a special name. Like naming a son.

Until he learned Russian.  
Laurent was so bares every time in the house, he started learning languages. He had always known French because of his mother and his grandparents in his father's side, but he wanted more. In the present day Laurent has teached himself Italian, Russian, German, Spanish and Greek, now learning Japanese as well.

He wanted to piss his Uncle off that time, since he knows a little Russian too. So he chose _Kotik_ , which means literally _pussy_ , in both senses of the word. But it's used as a tender nickname anyway, like saying _darling_ or _sweetie_.  
Kotik now is Kotik, and he doesn't seem to mind the name, the little wordplay it is.

  
They are now in the library, Laurent reading while Kotik purrs in his lap. Laurent tries his best to get that man out of his head. His height, his curls, his laugh, how he grabbed his wrist. It was wrong, it was all wrong. He had to forget him. _But what if he keeps coming to the parties?_  
That would be a problem.

Jord, who was also reading beside Laurent, shifted. "What are you reading?" Laurent asked him.  
He wasn't used to reading, but after having to accompany Laurent so many times to the library and not knowing what to do with his hands, he finally started to pick up some books. And Laurent was proud of that.

"Ehm...," he looks at the cover for a moment "W- Wuthering Heights."

Laurent smiles, "Oh. Romantic. And rough. Interesting decision" he feigns he didn't see Jord's blush. Laurent returns to his own book, "Delirium" a foreign book about a man whose lover falls in insanity, and he searches for a cure to her madness. Meanwhile, the author gives glimpses of her past and how she became "delirious"  
Laurent likes books that have a little of everything in them, mystery, romance, adventure, and even comedy. He likes a lot philosophy books as well. His favorite thing about reading is that it takes you away, far away from where you are. Like an escape.

After a while, Jord excuses himself and goes to the bathroom in the hall.  
Laurent watches him go. Then he checks the clock in the wall. It will be lunch time soon.  
He was going to keep reading when he heard a sound. He stops, and stays still, then hears carefully. _Uncle?_ Of course, trying to do anything to him with Jord in the room could be risky. His wrist tingles.  
Again that sound. And movement near the door. Laurent turns to see who's standing in the door frame, prepared for the inevitable.  
But his body relaxes when the only one he sees in Nicaise. He must had finished his garden duties, for he sees mud in his jeans and a grass piece stuck in one of his curls. But... This is strange. Nicaise never comes to him, and Laurent never looks for him either. They just were there for each other when the situation required it. They have this silent complicity.

"He is no good for you" Nicaise says. He _spoke_. Laurent thought, surprised. When he means "silent complicity" it is in a literal sense.

"What? Are you mute? Well, I guess people will be really disappointed to know you're not the one who speaks in those ceremonies"

Laurent just blinked at him. He is between feeling happy and worried.

"Who is not good for me?" It was the only thing he could think of saying.

"Why, the guy you talked to last night. The one who looked like a giant beast with a tuxedo"

So Nicaise had seen them too? What, everyone in the house knows it?

"I already gave him a warning, but I had to make sure of you... You have to get away from him" Nicaise says. He hasn't moved from his place at the door, he just stays there with his arms crossed, glaring at Laurent.

"A warning." Laurent replies.

"Well, yes. I told him to never come back and stop wooing you."

Laurent stands up abruptly, so fast his head hurt. "He wasn't _wooing_ me! We were just talking. And why are you warning me of him? Is he related to Raphael?"

There is no sense in hiding it, Laurent knows that Nicaise knows that they both know. Know who his Uncle really is.

Laurent knows what Nicaise is, and where he sleeps, and what he does every night. It's repugnant and real. That's why they have something in common, the silent complicity.  
And they know that no one who is friends with Uncle is good news.

"Oh no I don't think so. He looks stupid. But Raphael would notice and you will have trouble. What's worst, he'll think that I knew first, he is pretty sure you and I are close friends. Ridiculous."

Laurent smiles without humor, and sits down again. Kotik climbs into his lap again too.  
"He already knows, he watched us. In fact, I've been waiting for him to scold me but..."  
They look at each other.

"He is out now. Do you think it has something to do with this?" Nicaise asks. Laurent twists his head and closes his eyes like his cat does. It has?

"No, he doesn't takes matters in his own hands, normally. He would send someone"

Nicaise widens his eyes but tries to school his face back. "What, is he going to kill the guy?"

Laurent laughs, "oh, I don't know. I don't think he cares enough for the man. What he knows, after all?"  
He doesn't care for the man, it was him who approached him at the party. It's all his fault.

"Anyway, but don't think _I_   don't know how he was looking at you, or how you were looking at him. It's horrible" Nicaise insists.  
"And I have to go, Jord can't last in the bathroom forever," just before he goes out, he looks over his shoulder to Laurent, "and maybe you could give the poor guy a chance. He would be better than an outsider" and with that, he exists the library, leaving Laurent to think alone in the floor.

  
The rest of the day elapses as usual. Laurent with Jord even in tea time, because his Uncle was still out. And it's five in the afternoon, and he is still out in who knows where.

So that's when Laurent decides to go out to the garden for a while, to check out how the baby bunnies are doing, and maybe start naming them already. But Jord wouldn't let him.

"My presence is required for the dinner preparations, and you know you can't go outside alone" Jord says.

"But I'm only going to the backyard... And I couldn't go outside today as I wanted. Let me have this at least." Laurent protests. "Do you honesty think someone is going to enter and snatch me out? Sorry but I am not a child anymore."

Jord sighs, his hands going through his hair, and Laurent crosses his arms over his chest, in sign of stubbornness. There is a debate inside his head, _To let Laurent out and risk his safety and your credibility as his guard, or Step over Laurent's happiness and lock him in his room, securing both of them, but making him miserable_. He wasn't exaggerating, Jord can be very melodramatic when it came to Laurent.

At the end he gives up, going to the kitchen while he pleads Laurent to stay safe.

  
The backyard is big. When Laurent was younger, it had been smaller, with only enough space for the little pond and the bunny's cages. Now it had a font, more cages, a sitting bench, and a well cultivated flower garden. Plus, the small orchard, very English, but the white fences, very American.  
It was all for the guests, practically, but Laurent has a good connection with this place. He hadn't a single bad memory about it.

He walked down to the center of the garden, were the pond was. He had two gold fish he had bought like a month ago there and he was still getting used to them. Laurent kneeled down to watch them swim for a bit, when he heard a sound.  
He went still. It wasn't the rabbits or the normal garden sounds. His wrist twitched. _Damn Jord and his panicked suppositions_.

Laurent was getting up to look for the source of the sound, when a little rock hit him in the head. Hard.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you liked this one! We will dive deeper and deeper into Laurent's life as the story goes on~  
> Do you think Laurent should give poor Jord a chance...? 
> 
> Comments are really appreciated!

**Author's Note:**

> Yell at me in Tumblr at: @ayacraster.


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